Life Without Dreams
by Dancho
Summary: A series of one shots, in chronological order, that deal with Tonks and Snape and the people around them.
1. Life Without Dreams

Title: Life without Dreams 

Author: Dancho

Fandom: Harry Potter

Disclaimer: Own nothing… I live in a box and wear a barrel.

Type: One Shot

Rating: T (PG-13)

SHIPs: SS/RB

Summery: Severus Snape and Regulus Black were friends, even more than friends. So when Regulus dies, can Snape ever move on?

Time: Post-GoF

Location: Mostly Spinner's End, other places and a lot of time spent in Snape's head.

Warning: Homosexuality, some cursing, drinking and vague drugs and sex references, violence, character death, seriously angsting Snape… might even come across a little Emo, but his life does suck, so I forgive him.

* * *

Suppose we have only dreamed and made up these things like sun, sky, stars, and moon, and Aslan himself. In that case, it seems to me that the made-up things are a good deal better than the real ones.

_-Puddleglum (Chronicles of Narnia: The Silver Chair)-_

* * *

"Severus. There is something I need you to do for me," Voldemort said, his voice taking on a hissing quality as if it was a snake speaking instead of a human being. Even though, Snape mused, Voldemort's humanity was debatable.

"My Lord?" Snape replied, strengthening his mental barricades.

"Regulus Black is proving to be less able and reliable than I had first supposed. If you would tie up that loose end?"

"Of… of course, my Lord," Snape whispered before turning to leave the room. As he walked towards the door, Snape saw the large smirk plastered on Lucius Malfoy's face and sneered in reply.

Snape found Lucius to be absolutely insufferable. The man was completely full of himself; though Snape had to admit it was for some fairly good reasons. The man was, even though Snape didn't fancy him, good looking, wealthy, and powerful. In other words, he was everything that Snape was generally not. Fortunately, Lucius hated Snape with almost as much passion as Snape hated him, probably because Lucius's wife, Narcissa, was friendly with Snape and probably liked Snape more than her own husband.

Because of the almost tangible hatred between the two men, Voldemort had ordered the pair of them not to cross proverbial swords, for fear that either one or both of the men would even up dead or missing a vital body part. The unfortunate part of the situation was that, while Snape was happy to avoid Lucius at all costs, Lucious liked to provoke Snape as much as possible, know the other man would not retaliate for fear of punishment.

As Snape passed, Lucius shifted his weight so that he could lean closer to Snape when he passed. Without warning, Lucius reached out and caught the hem of Snape's robe and tugged him closer, whispering in his ear, "Don't fuck this up. Don't forget where your loyalties lie. Even though I'm sure it's hard, since he's such a good lay and…"

Without warning, Snape lashed out, his fist slamming into Lucius's face, sending the other man to the floor.

"Severus," Voldemort warned his follower, as Snape pulled his fist back again. Snape froze, awaiting his punishment. "Lucius was rude, so I will let this pass. But do not let it happen again."

"My Lord is merciful."

"Oh, and Severus?"

"Yes?"

"Please, do not let your feelings interfere with your duty to me."

"Of course not, my Lord," Snape whispered before hurrying from the room. Quickly, he apparated and arrived in his own home of Spinner's End. It was a small home, but it was fairly well kept, considering the desolate neighborhood in which is was located. Pulling a chair over to his desk, Snape sat down and put his wand on the desk. He didn't move for over an hour. All he did was sit at his desk, stare at his wand and wait. Finally, there was a loud crack from the other room but Snape didn't move an inch since he already knew who it was.

"Hey, babe," Regulus called from the kitchen. "I need a drink. You want some?"

"No," Snape replied softly, as Regulus walked into the room carrying a bottle of vodka. He flopped into a large armchair and sighed, before taking a large gulp.

"God, I hate going home. All that woman does is nag. Nag, nag, nag. I can't catch a break. All that pressure to make up for Sirius. I totally don't blame him for legging it. I would have if I'd know she was going to harass me so much. Before I was perfect, but now everything I touch is flawed. God." Taking another drink from the vodka bottle, Regulus looked over at Snape's back and smirked. "Well? How was your day? Get that grading done?"

"I tried, but our Lord called before I was even finished half of them. I'll just assign grades by how much I like the student."

"You're really terrible," Regulus laughed. There was a silence, as Regulus took another sip of the vodka and waited for Snape to reply, but the other man didn't. Frowning, Regulus stood and crept over to Snape's side. "Whatcha doing? Wanking?"

"What!" Snape shouted, jerking his head around to look at Regulus.

"Yeah. I'll bet you're thinking about Narcissa. Now, she's good looking if you know what I mean," Regulus leered, making a rude gesture.

"That's disgusting," Snape spat as he turned the chair so he was facing Regulus. "She's your cousin."

"She's not your cousin, though," Regulus retorted, looking almost disappointed now that he could see Snape wasn't doing anything inappropriate, "and she does have a nice ass." He took another drink of the vodka and waved the half-empty bottle in Snape's face. "Sure ya don' want any? Lots fer ya."

"No thanks," Snape replied. Regulus hick-upped and stumbled a little, but Snape caught him around the waist to keep him from falling to the ground. Snape was quiet for a while, looking at Regulus carefully. The younger man's face was red and he swayed a little on his feet, so Snape tugged him forward so that Regulus's knees were leaning against the seat of the chair. Taking another drink of the alcohol, Regulus clambered onto the seat and straddled Snape's lap. Snape looked up at his drunken friend and swallowed before forcing a smile. It wasn't a nasty smile; it was rather nice, actually, and as such it looked completely foreign on Snape's face, but it made Regulus smile back anyway.

"Like yer smile, Severus. But it looks bad on yer face. Like a smudge on York."

"York?"

"Yeah. Those big white cliffs. Smudge's don't belong, ya know."

"It's Dover."

"One of those places," Regulus mumbled. "Take it off?"

"Do I have to?" Snape asked, even as he closed his eyes and the small concealing spell fell away. He was still the same man, for the most part, but without the spell small things began to change about his appearance. His greasy hair became clean and even a little curly. His skin took on a little color and even though it remained pale, it looked natural and healthy. His teeth whitened except for a few coffee stains and they evened out. Even his eyes seemed to sparkle a little. Indeed, all that truly remained of the previous Snape was his hooked nose and his shoulder-length black hair.

"So pretty," Regulus whispered, his lips forming a lopsided smile.

"My dad used to say that too," Snape replied, not meeting Regulus's eyes. "Right before he'd hit me. He'd tell me what a pretty boy I was. It was the only time he looked at me as if he cared. Right before he hurt me." Regulus touched his forehead to Snape's, but didn't interrupt. "My mom used to put the spell on me. To hide the cuts and bruises. 'Don't attract attention, Severus. Don't let anyone know.' You're the first person who's seen me like this… since my mother."

"Umm, I like dat. But cha know, no un can touch ya. Too powerfal."

"Why do you think I learned all those spells?" Snape asked, almost laughing. It felt weird to tell Regulus about why he used the spell. In fact, the other man wouldn't have even known about the spell if he hadn't come to Snape's home in the middle of the night once. But, on the other hand, Snape decided, it also felt right. Of everyone Snape knew Regulus was the only one he might consider calling a friend or anything more. Snape frowned again, thinking of his orders, and he knew at that moment that he would do as he had been directed.

Reaching up, Snape lifted Regulus's chin and gave him a small kiss. A half-hour later, they both lay naked on the cold floor of Spinner's End. Snape lay on his back with Regulus curled up at his side. He looked over at the drunken man and kissed his forehead. Sitting up, he pulled on a robe and draped the other over Regulus's body. He picked his wand up off his desk and knelt down next to Regulus.

"Goodbye."

"Goodbye," Regulus replied and opened his eyes. Looking closely, Snape searched Regulus's face as the other man sat up, but he could find no sign of drunkenness. "I switched the vodka with tap water. You never drink it anyway."

"You knew?"

"I heard about it." Regulus shrugged, as he clambered to his feet, pulled on his robes and went over to the mirror in the bathroom so he could straighten his hair. "What a bastard, huh? Tell you to do me in. Merlin."

"Why'd you come back here? If you knew, why you'd come to me?" Snape asked, as he stood and walked over to the door of the bathroom.

"Well, I wanted to say goodbye. Aren't I considerate? Besides, you won't kill me," Regulus explained as he turned to smile at Snape.

"I was going to. I was going to end it a second ago."

"I don't want to die, Severus. I can't. I'm not ready."

"So why did you come back! You're such a fool! Why didn't you run? Why'd you put yourself in danger?" Snape shouted as he raised his wand. Grabbing the wand and pushing it aside, Regulus smashed his fist into Snape's face and watched as the other man stumbled back a few steps and fell the floor, holding his nose.

"I wanted to say goodbye! Was that too much to ask!" Regulus screamed back, wanting very much to stomp his feet as tears came to his eyes. Instead he snapped Snape's wand that he had grabbed when he had punched Snape. "Aren't I allowed to care about you? Fuck. I just wanted something to be different. And maybe… I wanted you to come with me. Merlin, I'm so stupid."

And with one last kick to Snape's ribs, Regulus pulled his own wand out of his robes and disapparated. Rolling onto his back, Snape didn't move, except to wipe a little blood from his nose and recast the spell to change his features. He didn't move until an hour later when Narcissa and Lucius came to see him and found him still lying on the floor.

"Snape?" Narcissa asked, looking down at him. "You're not dead, are you?"

"He might be. That is an awful lot of blood on his face," Lucius said to his wife.

"Shut up," Snape muttered as he opened his eyes and looked up at the couple. Getting to his feet, Snape rubbed at his eyes and gently touched his nose. It didn't seem to be broken, but it was tender. Yawning, Snape wandered into his bathroom and Lucius followed him while Narcissa sat down in one of the less dusty chairs. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Our Lord want's to know if it's done."

"It's not," Snape replied when he had finished washing the blood off his face. "He… It got out of hand and he escaped."

"Do you know where he's gone?" Narcissa called from the other room.

"No, I haven't a clue," Snape replied, careful to shield the fact that he had in fact searched Regulus's mind and knew exactly where he was going. Lucius's eyes narrowed and he carefully searched Snape's face looking for any clues.

"Our Lord doesn't trust you, you know," Lucius finally replied. "He thinks you might be doing a little bit of 'double dipping' shall we say."

"So why don't you off me?" Snape answered with a sneer.

"I wish. And if he needs you killed, I'll be the first in line. But he seems to think you're still valuable and he cannot be sure you are not loyal. With your skills, it would be unfortunate to lose you if you were indeed loyal."

"And I'll be that simply rankles, doesn't it, Lucius." Snape smirked and Lucius growled deep in the back of his throat before he stormed out of Spinner's End, his wife trailing behind. It was a month before Snape saw Narcissa again. He was in his office grading papers when she came in, her hair askew and her eyes wild.

"SNAPE!" She called as she threw open the door and stood in the doorway, gasping for breath as if she had just run a marathon.

"Narcissa? Is… something wrong?" Snape asked, as he motioned for her to enter and he shut the door with a wave of his wand.

"He knows. He knows where Regulus went!"

"What? Who knows?" Snape asked, standing up.

"You-know-who!" Narcissa hissed, keeping her voice low in case any student might be eavesdropping. "And he's sent Bella after him! She'll rip him apart!"

But Snape was already gone, racing through the castle, trying to get to the end of the disapparation wards. He finally reached the edges of the school property and sent himself across the ocean to a small apartment in the United States. The apartment was empty except for a couple of blankets in the corner and a woman who was sleeping in the corner of the room. Walking over to her, Snape quickly shook her awake.

"Wha…? Who're you?"

"Where's Regulus?" Snape asked impatiently.

"Who?"

"Tall fellow. Long-ish hair. From Britain."

"Oh yeah. Him. He went out for some smokes. Should be back soon," the woman replied, her eyes already closing.

"Wake up! Which way did he go?"

"Store's on West 56th," the woman said before yawning and falling back asleep. Running out of the apartment, Snape hurried down three flights of stairs and ran into the streets, not caring if his robes were a bit conspicuous. He ran towards 56th street, praying he could find the younger man, when he heard a loud crack, almost like the sound made by a person disapparating. Hurrying towards the sound, Snape went down a dark, dirty alley and almost fell over a body lying prostrate on the ground. The body groaned and Snape rolled the man over to see Regulus's face.

"Severus?" Regulus asked, opening his eyes to see Snape. "God. What a fucked up trip, yeah? First Bella. Now you? Who next? You-know you?"

"Ha. He'd never come to finish off a lose end like you," Snape whispered, checking the other man for injuries. Running his hand over Regulus's muggle shirt, he pulled his hand away when he hit a wet segment. Looking at his fingers, Snape smelled them and recoiled at the scent of blood. He ripped open Regulus's shirt and stared at the long slice that seemed to cut through muscle and bones. And Snape knew Regulus was going to die, because nothing short of St. Mungo's could save him and Snape was pretty sure Regulus wouldn't survive apparation.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's wrong, babe?" Regulus laughed, his eyes focusing and unfocusing rapidly.

"Nothing," Snape lied as he leaned forward to kiss Regulus's forehead. Regulus clutched at Snape's robes, his grip weak from blood loss.

"Don't leave me. Not like Bella. She left with the fairies."

"I'll stay," Snape replied as he ran his fingers through Regulus's hair.

"I missed you," Regulus whispered and the light in his eyes faded. Snape sat with Regulus for almost an hour before he got to his feet, pulling Regulus up with him, and disapparating. He arrived in front of 12 Grimwald place and knocked on the door, before lying Regulus on the front steps. As his hands ran past Regulus's pocket, he felt something and he reached inside to find an old locket. Stiffening, he heard the sound of footsteps coming to open the door, so he shoved the item into his pocket and disapparated as the front door opened. He thought he might have heard a strangled cry as he left, but it might have been his imagination.

Snape didn't attend the funeral, not wanting to see Regulus's family, but he did wear the locket every day without fail. A few months after the funeral of Regulus came the defeat of Voldemort and the imprisonment of Sirius. Snape was pretty sure that Sirius had never been a death eater, but he couldn't be sure, and part of him liked thinking of Sirius wasting away in Azkaban. When he thought of it, he could almost forget that the blood of James and Lily Potter was also on his own hands.

But more than that, Snape couldn't help but feel guilty for the death of Regulus. He knew it wasn't really his fault, but sometimes he wondered if he had reached Regulus faster, or known more healing spells, he might have been able to save him. He had begun research into healing spells and first aid, in case a situation should arise again, and while he suppose that was a fairly healthy reaction, he wondered if some of his other forming habits were as good for him.

He had stopped bathing as regularly as he once had and he stayed inside more and his skin had taken on a deathly pallor. He had also stopped casting the appearance-changing spell. It was no longer necessary, since he looked exactly the same with or without it. Even his house and furniture was falling into disrepair and his garden, once filled with neatly trimmed grass, was becoming a mass of weeds and tangled vegetation. Looking out his front window, Snape wondered if his actions were a form of self-abuse, before deciding that it hardly mattered.

A knock on his back door interrupted that train of thought as Snape went to see whom his visitor was. It was Dumbledore, dressed in traditional black mourning robes, obviously just coming from the funeral of the Potter's. Snape stepped aside and Dumbledore came in, taking a seat in one of the less decrepit pieces of furniture. The older man held out a bag of muggle sweets, which Snape declined.

"Is there a point behind your visit?" Snape asked, wishing to be alone again.

"I was wondering if you were planning to stay on. I know that now part of your reason for staying on is over, but you are a fine potion's master and the work is steady."

"Oh? So this is entirely about my skills and has nothing to do with the fact that the ministry still does not trust me and wishes for you to watch me?"

"I would not hire you as a teacher if I thought you were unfit. There are easier ways to watch people."

"I suppose, but seeing as my occupational opportunities are rather limited because of my past affiliations, I seem to have no choice do I?"

"I am not forcing you, Severus. Why not think on it? I would, of course, like your answer by the end of the month. You know where to find me," Dumbledore said as he swept out of Snape's home and was gone. Snape wondered if he should continue teaching. He had only taken the job because his Lord had ordered him to take it, but it was a horrible task and he didn't have many options really. He looked around the dusty living room of Spinner's End and shook his head. Standing, he grabbed a over-cloak and headed to the only place he could truly think.

He approached the door of 12 Grimwald place and after a moment's hesitation knocked. The door was opened by an old house elf and Snape entered.

"Who's there?" a woman's voice asked, as the speaker entered the room. It was Regulus's mother. She didn't appear to recognize Snape at first, but, after a moment, she remembered and she smiled. "Severus! How lovely to see you."

"It's nice to see you as well, Mrs. Black. I was wondering… I… That is to say… have you disposed to Regulus's things?"

"No. I… It was such a shock to lose Regulus that I couldn't quite bare to throw away his things. They are untouched. Why?"

"I… would you mind if I looked around Regulus's room? I… think I left something there."

"Of course, dear," Mrs. Black replied and she led him up to Regulus's room and handed him the key. "Take as long as you like, I'll be in the living room."

"Thank you," Snape replied and unlocked the room. The air was stale and the room dusty, so Snape went over to one of the windows and opened it a crack before he began to look around the room, searching for hidden answers. He didn't know what he expected to find, but he did eventually find a large clothing box stored in the closet. Snape opened it and pulled out a death eater's robe and his broken wand, which Regulus's had snapped in their fight. The robe still smelled like Regulus, obviously not being washed. As he pulled the robes up to smell them, Snape felt the locket press against his breastbone and it that moment it became painfully obvious how much he was clinging to Regulus and the past.

He needed to escape from his mindset of death eaters and Spinner's end. And where better to do so than at Hogwarts? The solitary place, where most of the students would not know what side he had been on during the way, a clean slate, and, whether he liked it or not, interaction with real people and not just memories.

Taking off the locket, Snape refolded Regulus's robes and left the room, locking it as he left. As he was leaving, he looked over at the roomed filled with Black family heirlooms and entered. He turned the locket over in his hand before placing it with the other items. It had belonged to Regulus and that made it an heirloom, not a stolen keepsake.

He left 12 Grimwald place before he could run back and steal the locket back and as he returned to Spinner's End, Snape decided he would wait a for a bit before telling Dumbledore he had accepted the job. He didn't want to see at all eager.

And so he returned to Hogwarts, not looking back at his past as a death eater. He changed none of his habits, still hating all of his students, even though he disliked some students more than others. He continued to neglect his personal hygiene, not particularly caring what his students thought of him. He simply did his job and taught potions. He wasn't necessarily happy. He didn't actually like potions, regardless of his talent for making them, and he felt that he could better serve the school as the Defense against the Dark arts teacher. However, he supposed Dumbledore didn't trust him enough for that, so he remained, teaching potions in the dark dungeons, alone and fairly bitter because of it.

That is, until eleven years had passed, and a certain Harry Potter came to Hogwarts. Snape hated him the moment he laid eyes on him. The boy was like a ghost, a spirit raised from the grave of James Potter to torment him. Every time he saw the boy, he was reminded of the man he owed his life to and had killed instead. And the memory rankled, the unrepaid debt hanging over Snape's head. And the debt was never repaid, regardless of Snape's desire to be rid of his duty and the boy's knack for finding trouble. So every year it was the same and every year Snape hated the boy more and more. But there was nothing he could do, except wait for a chance to appear. And he waited, day after day, each day more intolerable than the one before.

Until a new problem arose, one of more importance. The boy Potter returned from the Triwizard Tournament and told Dumbledore of the return of Voldemort. He had felt the burning in his wrist for days and he knew it was coming. But even so, he dreaded the job he would have to do, dreaded the precarious life he would be returning to, dreaded the days of torturous company. But even more so, he dreaded returning to the ranks because he knew it would be worse this time. Before, at least, he had not been alone.

But still, he returned to his home, which was even more rundown than before, and pulled out his old robes. As he removed them from the box, a small picture fell to the ground and Snape bent to pick it up. It was a muggle picture from when Regulus had gone through his photography stage. He had messed up a batch and they wouldn't move. He had given them to Snape, since Mrs. Black wouldn't have taken well to muggle things in her house, and Snape had destroyed most of them, except one. It was of Regulus and Snape. They were sitting in a pub having a drink and they were laughing over some joke.

But the most noticeable thing of the photo was that they were both happy. An innocent happy, one where all the bad things in the world and all the pain was completely forgotten, not just lurking in the back of one's mind waiting to take over again. And for Snape, it had been a very long time since he had felt like that, because Regulus had taken all the good times with him.

It wasn't that Regulus had been extraordinarily optimistic or didn't have his fair share of disappointments. Indeed, Regulus was a bit like a kid in that he was easily upset, but his disappointment never lasted long. And Snape had actually liked him. He had enjoyed spending time with Regulus and didn't mind that the other man would whine a bit when things didn't go his way, because a moment later he would be scheming to get what he wanted, or decided to move on to something else. Regulus always managed to find something to laugh about, and Snape never doubted that it was Regulus who made life as a death eater bearable.

But those days were over, Snape reminded himself. Regulus is gone, dead, and Snape needed to return to Voldemort. He had to go alone and there was no Regulus to stand by him, to take care of him, to take him home and watch over him. He was alone and no amount of memories could change that. Looking down at the picture, Snape considered ripping it in half. Partially because he was angry with his own reminiscent weakness, and partially because he had destroyed everything else that reminded him of Regulus.

He knew he needed to move on, to get over the past. But as he put the picture on his pillow and pulled on his old robes, he decided that a memory of Regulus, a dream of happiness, was better then nothing at all.


	2. Returning Ghost

Title: Returning Ghosts 

Author: Dancho

Fandom: Harry Potter

Disclaimer: Own nothing… I live in a box and wear a barrel.

Type: One Shot

Rating: T (PG-13)

SHIPs: SS/RB, Strange SS/NT

Summery: Snape wonders about Tonks powers.

Time: Around OotP

Location: Snape's head

Warning: _Italics are Dreams._ Strange Snape loving Tonks. References to Homosexuality. Badly written kissing scene.

* * *

Snape hadn't been very impressed when he first meet Tonks. She might have been a metamorphmagus, but she hadn't seemed like much more than a clumsy girl, and he still thought she was exactly that. But recently, he had been thinking of her more and more.

Normally, he wouldn't have even given her a first thought, except that he had come to an Order meeting and he had witnessed her morphing into television celebrities and other Order members. And she had been good at it; in fact, it would have been almost impossible to tell the difference between Mad-Eye and her imitation, except that Tonks hadn't been able to fake a magical eye. He hadn't thought much of it until later that evening when he went to bed early in an attempt to get rid of the cold he was catching.

_Snape woke up early, opened his eyes and stifled a yawn. He checked the clock on his wall and groaned when he saw how early it was. Knowing he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, Snape sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, looking down in surprise as an arm curled around his waist and he looked over to see Regulus lying on the bed next to him._

"_Regulus?"_

"_Umm… morning," Regulus mumbled, as Snape lay down next to him._

"_But… what are you…" Snape stammered, trying to figure out why Regulus was in his bed._

"Shut up," Regulus replied and kissed Snape. It wasn't a passionate kiss at first, but it quickly grew into one and before Snape knew it he had his tongue down Regulus's throat. But as soon as it had started, it ended and Regulus pulled away. Opening his eyes, Snape pulled back in horror as Regulus's face slowly but surly changed into Tonks's smiling one.

And Snape woke up as he fell out of bed. After that, every time Snape saw Tonks, he wondered if she could morph into Regulus. He knew that she had never seen the man, but she might be able to do it if she saw a picture of him. Ultimately, he never did ask, of course.

It wasn't because he thought Sirius would go crazy and kill someone if he saw Tonks change into Regulus. It wasn't because he thought he wouldn't be able to see Regulus again without crying. It wasn't because he thought that seeing Regulus would bring back the pain of his death. It wasn't anything like that, even though they were good reasons.

Mostly, Snape was afraid that if he saw Regulus again, even if he was an illusion, he'd never be able to let go, regardless of what means he had to use. And he knew that waking up every morning to the unmorphed Tonks instead of Regulus would break him, slowly but surely.


	3. Makes him Happy

Title: Make Him Happy

Author: Dancho

Fandom: Harry Potter

Disclaimer: Own nothing… I live in a box and wear a barrel.

Type: One Shot

Rating: R (mostly just to be safe)

SHIPs: Mentioned (shown?) SS/RB, Odd SS/NT, SB/RL, offered NT/RL (yes, the order's right)

Summery: Sometimes, Snape has trouble dealing with things. Especially when the only person he can't handle is partnered with him.

Time: Post OotP, early HBP

Warning: mentions of homosexuality. Twisted homosexuality (half homo, half hetero). Seriously, this SS/NT even messes with my mind. Some language and sexual violence. Alcohol abuse and angsting. Also, attempted seduction.

Notes: Thank you to my BETA. Also, thank you to Daniel Cowman. Wouldn't you believe it? Sometimes we do get what we ask for. I've decided to extend this story. So, the basic idea is that these chapters are all (mostly) stand alone one-shots that focus on Tonks, Snape, separately and together that are posted in chronologically (so its the same timeline).

* * *

I hate everything about you  
Why do I love you

_I Hate Everything About You_ by Three Days Grace

* * *

Sometimes, Snape hated his life. He wasn't at all happy with how parts of it had turned out. When Regulus died or when Black escaped from Azkaban, to name a few. When he really hated his life, he would go down to his small private storeroom and have a drink, something strong, potent. Never enough to kill him, of course, but damn close, most of the time.

That wasn't to say that he didn't enjoy parts of his life. There were moments where he couldn't have been happier being anyone but himself. Like when Lucius Malfoy went to Azkaban or when he heard that Harry Potter had defeated Voldemort. And when he really wanted to celebrate, he would go down to his small private storeroom and have a drink, something strong, potent. Never enough to make him forget everything, but certainly strong enough that he forgot the dark portions of what made him happy.

At the moment, Snape wasn't sure if he was happy or miserable, so he just went down to his storeroom, shut the door and drank all the firewhiskey in sight. It wasn't until he couldn't stand up without the aid of a shelf that he remembered he had a class in less than half an hour. Though, because of his drunken state, his though process went more along the lines of '_falling… whiskey… make more…. Something else… should be doing? Oh! Another bottle'_; instead of '_Wait… don't I have a class with those idiotic 5th year Hufflepuffs in twenty minutes?'_

So, while his students hurried to their classroom and waited for him to sweep into the classroom, releasing a furious aura, he lay on the floor, trying to stay conscious long enough to finish the last of his alcohol stash.

He awoke the next day and stumbled down to his classroom, drank a small vile of hangover remedy he kept on hand for such occasions and sat down at his desk. To find a stack of graded essays looking back at him. A stack he did not remember looking at, a stack he had meant to do that morning.

"Fuck. Now I'm losing my mind," Snape muttered as he organized the parchments and pulled out another stack of papers to grade. As he was making his way through the papers, a student, a fifth year Hufflepuff, knock on his door and Snape suddenly remembered what he was supposed to be doing the other day. Hoping to chase the student away, so he wouldn't have to think about his missed class the previous day, Snape glared at the student. "What?"

"S-sorry, professor," the student stuttered. "It's about the essay you assigned."

"Essay? What essay?" Snape replied, his voice sharp with surprise.

"The one on polyjuice. It's due next week?"

"What about it?"

"How long should it be, sir?"

"How long did I say it had to be?" Snape asked, trying to cover up his uncertainty.

"Three meters."

"Then, do you not suppose that three meters would be what I am expecting come next week?"

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," The student apologized and quickly hurried away, much to Snape's delight. There were, naturally, benefits to being a mean and nasty sort of person. Moments later, Snape heard another set of footsteps coming towards his room. They were heavier, Snape noted, so it wasn't a student. But he knew the footsteps of most of the faculty, at least the ones who visited him regularly for potions and such, and this one was different. But it was, he frowned, oddly familiar. And the owner of the footsteps entered his classroom. It was himself.

"Oh, you're awake," the second Snape remarked, as 'he' took a seat on one of the student desks.

"Ms. Tonks, if you would be so kind, I don't appreciate talking to myself," Snape said, before looking back down at his stack of ungraded papers. The other Snape laughed and 'his' features morphed into a young woman with short, bright purple hair. "It seems you pretended to be me yesterday."

"Of course, we're partners, yes?"

"No. I do not work well with others and I plan on speaking to Dumbledore today to get you reassigned."

"Well, don't think I was keen on the idea, either. And I already spoke to Dumbledore; we're stuck working together, at least for this assignment," Tonks informed Snape, who's eyes narrowed as he contemplated her face.

"You requested for us to work together?" Snape asked, even though it was more of a statement that a question.

"Uh… it might have slipped out," Tonks admitted.

"Why the hell would you do that?" Snap asked, utterly perplexed. After years of creating the reputation of being mean beyond all reason so that people would leave him alone, his plan had failed? It was inconceivable.

"No one else would work with you. That is to say, no one else would be able to work with you without someone getting killed. I thought I'd just volunteer before I got paired with someone else."

"Had you thought that perhaps I preferred to work alone?"

"Absolutely," Tonks replied, smiling brightly. "Right after I thought 'No one ever works with Snape. Probably because he's such a grump'."

Snape arched one eyebrow before looking over her shoulder and saying, "it seems I have a class."

"Of course," Tonks agreed, hopping off the table and leaving the classroom. "Catch you later."

She left the room, calling to a few students she recognized. Her robes swirled after her and Snape noticed that, even though her robes were as black as his were, they somehow seemed a little brighter.

* * *

They walked down the street together, the rain falling hard. Snape grimaced and pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders. They were walking through a muggle town and couldn't afford to cast any rain-repellent charms, so they were stuck wadding through puddles and shivering as rain ran down their face and soaked their clothes. Snape was just grateful they were almost out of town. The pair crossed the street, hurried into a safe house and Snape apparated them both a few miles south to an even smaller town inhabited by wizards.

Looking around, Tonks frowned slightly.

"This isn't Sarzage. Where are we?" She asked, looking over at Snape.

"Just a bit outside. Wait here," he commanded, already heading over to a small building with no door, just an open entrance. Ignoring his words, she hurried after him and followed him into the building to see that there was nothing inside. It was just a simple room with plaques on the wall. Each plaque had a name, two dates and, sometimes, an inscription. It was a graveyard.

When her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she saw Snape standing in front of a marker, his fingers resting on the raised name. He smiled faintly before turning to face Tonks, positioning his body to hide the plaque he had been looking at.

"Didn't I tell you to wait? Can't you follow a simple direction?" Snape asked, irritated that he had been caught.

"Only my mother tells me what to do," Tonks replied and Snape made a sound of annoyance. Brushing past her so that she stumbled, Snape left the small building. Shooting him an angry look, Tonks walked over to the wall and found the memorial Snape had been visiting and raised an eyebrow. Turning away, Tonks sprinted after her partner, forgetting to cast any charms against the rain in her haste. "Snape!"

"What?" The man replied, already applying drying and rain-repellent charms to his clothes and body.

"Regulus Black? You were visiting him?"

"And why shouldn't I?" Snape retorted, his eyes burning with anger. He tightened his grip on his wand and took an offensive step towards her. "Am I not allowed?"

"No… you can," Tonks responded slowly, taken aback by Snape's sharp anger.

"Then don't speak about it. It is my right! I can visit whom I like," Snape spat before storming off in the directions of the town.

"But you don't like anyone," Tonks replied to the rain. Snape didn't speak to her for the rest of the day and left for Hogwarts as soon as their work was done. Tonks wondered if she should follow him to make sure he was all right, but didn't bother. Instead she went to her mother's home and spent the rest of the evening examining old photographs.

The next evening, she arrived at Hogwarts found him in his classroom, hunched over a book that was possibly older than Dumbledore. He didn't look up when she came in or when she sat down, but she knew he was aware of her presence.

"I heard you didn't cover my classes yesterday."

"You should have been there yourself. I'm not your babysitter," Tonks replied with a shrug. Snape turned the page. "Besides, I was busy."

"Doing what? Learning to apply makeup?"

"Sort of. I was practicing," Tonks explained, as she hopped off the table she'd been sitting on and walked over to his desk. Placing her hands on either side of the book he was reading, she leaned in. Snape pulled back instinctively and Tonks smiled at him. "Tell me how I do."

Her face began to change, taking on a more masculine shape, while her hair lengthened and darkened into a shade of black. Her body changed too, her breasts retracting and her bones lengthening a little to make her taller and skinnier. And as she made these changes she spoke, her voice deepening with each sound.

"I only saw him once, you know. I was playing outside in the back garden and he came by. He didn't say anything; he just stood on the other side of the fence and watched me play for a while. I didn't pay him much mind until mum told me to come in for dinner and she got very upset when she saw him, even though all he did was tell her how pretty I was and then told us both goodbye. I think he died a few days later."

"Regulus," Snape whispered, his shoulders slumping in shock.

"Did I get it right then?" Tonks asked.

"The nose, it needs to be a little smaller," Snape told her, "and the eyes are a little darker than that."

"Like this?" Tonks asked as she complied, but Snape didn't answer. Instead he stood and walked over to stand beside her. His hands came up and he let his fingers rest lightly on her cheeks. Slowly, his fingers traced her face, going up to her forehead, her eyelids and coming down her nose to rest on her lips. Nervously, Tonks licked her lips, accidentally wetting the tips of Snape's fingers.

It was like a switch flipped and Snape's eyes narrowed. One of his hands dropped to her collar, the other went back to hold her head and his lips crashed down on hers. She froze, her body becoming rigid with shock, and she found herself trapped. His body pressing hers into the wall, rough stones scrapping her skin through her robes. His teeth teased her already bruised lips, nipping at her swollen skin.

Finally regaining her senses, Tonks let out a muffle grunt and tried to push Snape away, but he grabbed her hands and pushed them back against the wall, the back of her hands scrapping against the jagged bedrock, which left welts and small cuts. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and began to explore, teasing her tongue, almost inviting her to play. She could feel Snape pressing closer, trying to deepen the kiss, almost as if he was trying to consume her. Saliva ran down her chin and she knew it was as much his as it was hers. Snape's hands shifted and she felt her already cut hands grate against the rocks, causing her to cry out and a new wetness fall on her face. She was crying, much to her embarrassment.

At that moment, Snape pulled away, gasping for air, and he looked down at her true face. She had been unable to keep her body in its morphed shape because of the shock and pain of being kissed so brutally. Dropping her hands, Snape pulled away, recoiling in horror. She fell to the ground, her legs shaking too much to support her weight. Looking at the ground, unable to meet his eye, She raised her cut hands and tried to wipe the tears and saliva from her face even though her hands would not stop trembling.

"I have to go," Snape whispered, backing away from her. "Please. Leave." And he ran from the room, leaving Tonks behind. He ran down the halls of Hogwarts, pushing past students and other teachers, ignoring all of the voices shouting for him to stop. All he wanted to do was get drunk and never see Tonks' face ever again. And he hoped he could forget how weak he had been in the face of her powers. He'd been so very weak, just as he had known he would be.

* * *

Tonks finally got to her feet, and pulled her robes around her shaking body. She walked through the school, not looking up from the ground, even as she reached Hogsmead and apparated to wizarding London. She could feel her hair wilting and turning a dull brown and her eyes changed to a dull black. Even her lips became a shade of pale pink. She quietly walked towards the headquarters of the Order, never looking up, until she reached the front door. Knocking once, she waited for someone to allow her entrance. She didn't even think to open the door herself. Finally, Lupin answered the door.

"Tonks?" he asked, surprised at her appearance. "Are you ok?"

"I can't stop crying," she told him, one of her bleeding hands coming up to wipe her tears from her face. "I can't stop."

"Tonks! Your hands! You're bleeding!"

"I know. They hurt, too," she told him, still trying to stop her tears, but only succeeded in letting salt water into the wounds, causing her more pain. Reaching out, Lupin grabbed her wrists gently and pulled her inside. Leading the way to the kitchen, he sat her down on a stool and got a first aid kit. He handed her a towel and let her dry her tears while he cleaned and wrapped her hands. When he was done, he wet the towel and cleaned her face, and then got her some water, which she drank. She finally stopped crying after two glasses of water. Lupin sat with her, not talking, just watching her, and waiting.

"I fucking hate him," Tonks finally told him. "I hate him so much. I actually liked him too. I mean, sure, he was kind of angry and bitchy. But, after a while, you got past that. You just sort of felt sorry for him and you wanted him to be happy. I was just trying to help! But he's such a bastard, I don't think he can be happy!"

"Did he hurt you?"

"It was an accident. Really. I wouldn't really mind either. All he had to do was say sorry! But he just looked at me like I was an embarrassment or a something to be ashamed of. I didn't care you know. I would have been him for him. I didn't care that he wasn't kissing me," Tonks explained, on the verge of tears again. She took a long drink of water and another deep breath before continuing. "I didn't care. I just… I wanted to see him happy."

"Oh, Tonks," Lupin whispered, pulling her close for a hug. "Who?"

"Don't ask me. I don't want you to hate him too."

"All right. If that's how you want it."

"Thank you," Tonks replied, before kissing him on the lips. "Please?"

"Tonks… I can't."

"I want to."

"I can't. Sirius and I… I can't. I don't love you."

"It's ok. I can be Sirius, if you want."

"No," Lupin told her, pulling away a little bit.

"It's not hard. Dead easy, actually. Don't you want to see him again? Be with him again?"

"No. Don't say that. It is hard for you and for me. No matter how much I want Sirius back here, he's dead. It's not fair to either of us to live a lie," Lupin explained, turning away a little, so he wouldn't have to look her in the eye. "You should go upstairs and take a shower. I'll make up a guest bed for you in the meantime."

"A-alright," Tonks agreed, her voice small and weak. She stood and walked over to the door before looking at him over her shoulder. "You sure? The offer still stands."

"I'm sure. You're an amazing woman; you deserve someone who likes you and not what your powers can do."

"Lupin?"

"Yes?"

"Does it hurt? To be without Sirius?"

"Yes. All the time."

"I'm sorry."


	4. AD

Title: A.D. (After Dumbledore)

Author: Dancho

Fandom: Harry Potter

Disclaimer: Own nothing… I live in a box and wear a barrel.

Type: One Shot

Rating: M (R)

SHIPs: Mentioned SS/RB, Strange friendship SS/NT, DM, NL/LL (maybe. If you squint), HP/GW, RW/HG

Summery: After Dumbledore died, nothing was ever the same. A look at the changes through short Snape/Tonks interactions.

Time: Post-HBP

Warning: Multiple character death. Homosexuality, some of its only there if you want it to be. Disregard for some cannon pairings (Screw you RL/NT)! Mention of suicide (which of course is never the answer!).

* * *

I'm only happy when it rains  
You know I love it when the news is bad  
Why it feels so good to feel so sad  
I'm only happy when it rains 

-_Only Happy When It Rains_ by Garbage

* * *

Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go. -Oscar Wilde

* * *

It had been a few weeks since the death of Dumbledore. Snape and Draco had disappeared off the face of the planet, and no one knew where they were. It appeared, even though it was hard to tell since Snape was no longer present to funnel information to the Order, that even the Death Eaters did not know where the two men had gone.

Even though there hadn't been any attacks since the one on Hogwarts, all the Order members were on high alert, waiting for the next outbreak of violence. Breaks, especially for aurors, who were already working double shifts, were a thing of the past, a distant memory. After weeks of the harsh regime many aurors were taking home duty, where, even though they were resting at home, they could still be called on for active duty. Moody was against the idea, naturally, but even he relented when a few aurors broke under the pressure and needed time in at St. Mungo's to recover.

Tonks hadn't felt that she needed to take any home duty. Because of this, she hadn't had much time to sleep, let alone eat, and she knew she wasn't the only auror taking sponge baths in the sinks of the Ministry. But everyone has their breaking point and, one morning, Tonks lost consciousness and fell down a flight of stairs, breaking her wrist and hitting her head.

She awoke, hours later, in the ministry hospital. She felt fine, the medi-witch having healed her injuries while Tonks was asleep, but Moody decided to give her the rest of the day off. Tonks took the leave without question, even though she was embarrassed to need it. Instead of going straight home to shower and eat, Tonks apparated to Sarzage and went to visit Regulus's tomb.

She didn't really know why she was visiting Regulus. She hadn't known him when he was alive and she hadn't really cared about him until she had stolen his form. But since that incident, she had visited Regulus often, sometimes twice a week. She wondered if she was feeling guilty, since she never borrowed other people's forms without permission, and she was sure that was part of the reason for her visits. However, she also wondered if her visits had something to do with the fact that, with the death of Sirius, no one else was visiting Regulus.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Tonks stepped into the small graveyard, before taking a step back in shock. She had been wrong; she wasn't the only person visiting Regulus. Turning around, Snape drew his wand took a defensive stance.

"No! Snape, it's ok! I'm off duty!" Tonks hurried to reassure him, while raising her hands in the air to show that she was unarmed. "I'm just here to visit Regulus."

Snape lowered his wand slowly, but he didn't put it away, and Tonks walked over to Regulus's gravestone.

"They're still looking for you," Tonks told him, as she ran her fingers over Regulus's name. "And Draco, too. It's amazing how fast everyone's turned on you, isn't it?"

"Not really. None of them ever trusted me. And Harry is their wonder boy. His word is absolute."

"Did you? Did you kill Dumbledore?" Tonks asked, turning to face Snape.

"Would you believe me if I said I didn't?"

"Maybe," Tonks replied and Snape was silent a moment.

"I killed him… and I'm not sorry for it. I'd most certainly do it again and that's the truth."

"I see." Tonks nodded.

"Aren't you going to turn me in?"

"No. Like I said, I'm off duty. Moody told me I wasn't to even think about doing any auror work."

"I would turn myself in if I were you."

"But you're not. Besides, I guess I sort of like you."

"What? No one likes me! Especially not you. After what I did to you? I used you!"

"Um. I guess that's sort of true," Tonks conceded. "But, you know, when you kissed me, I didn't mind so much that you weren't kissing me. I knew something like that might happen and I was all right with it, at the time. But then you just looked so disgusted with me."

Tonks trailed off, her eyes focusing on the ground, before shrugging and looking back at Snape.

"Anyway. I'm over it," Tonks told him with a smile.

"And you like me?" Snape asked, still looking a little dubious.

"Sure. You just need to lighten up is all," Tonks told him, with a wink, before she disapparated with a crack.

* * *

It had been a few months since the death of Dumbledore. Three months next Tuesday, to be exact, Tonks realized as she looked at the small calendar on her wall. There had been an attack on a muggle village two nights ago, and oddly enough it seemed to relieve the tension in the auror office. Tonks had been on guard detail at Hogwarts and had not participated in the defensive. Therefore, she was stuck reading the report, all thirty-seven meters of it, her brain nearly melting from boredom. There were several interesting points, however.

It seemed the raid had been lead in an attempt to capture and execute Severus Snape for desertion. Luckily for him, and Draco Malfoy, who had been hiding with him, the aurors had gotten to him first. Still, the term 'lucky' was used in the most ironic sense. The aurors had, after dispelling the death eaters, taken a little bit of justice for themselves. So, even though Snape and had been saved from certain, and painful, death, he had had to suffer while the word 'MURDERER' was magically carved into his back. St. Mungo's had done what they could for him, but he would be forced to heal the muggle way, without magical aids. Because of the current war, the four aurors directly responsible, who should have been dismissed, or the very least investigated for cruelty, were reprimanded and put on Azkaban duty.

* * *

It had been eleven months since the death of Dumbledore. The war was over, Harry Potter, with the help of Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, had finally defeated Voldemort. Many people had died, including Harry's girlfriend, or possibly his wife, if you believed the rumors, Ginny Weasley. Fred and Percy Weasley had also been murdered, Percy trying to warn his family and Fred protecting his parents. George was currently being treated for severe depression. McGonagall had also died in defense of Hogwarts, as well as Rosmerta, owner of the Three Broomsticks, and roughly half the members of the Order, as well a few of the older students who stayed on at Hogwarts. Luna Lovegood had also been driven crazy by the war, and Neville Longbottom had disappeared, even though his Grandmother had spent several thousand galleons looking for him.

There were several other people, aside from Longbottom who had disappeared or left the country after the war. Harry Potter himself had never returned after the final battle. Many thought he was dead but Ron and Hermione, who had returned with Ginny's body, had come forward and explained that Harry had only left England for an undisclosed period of time. Malfoy had also left the country, and had headed for the United States, after being released from Auror custody. He had abandoned his estates, which had been seized by the ministry after his parent's executions. Ron and Hermione had been married days after the end of the war and disappeared three weeks later, much to everyone's surprise. Bill and Fleur had gone in search of the pair but after a month had given up and settled in France. Lupin had disappeared for a month before returning to advocate for rights for werewolf and other magical creatures. Hagrid had moved to somewhere in Eastern Europe and only wrote every month or so. Moody had retired to some small town in Spain, but most people believed he would be back before Christmas, at the latest. Dean Thomas, Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein, Susan Bones, Ernie MacMillan, Theodore Nott, and Pansy Parkinson also disappeared and no one was sure if they had died or were still alive in some other part of the world.

Tonks was sure that the missing students were dead, but Snape had assured her that, at least in the case of Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson, they were not dead. Tonks found this an abnormally optimistic statement for a man locked in Azkaban, surrounded by Dementors most of the day and awaiting execution.

He was the only high-ranking death eater still alive. All the others had been executed, killed in battle, killed by vigilantes, or taken their own lives when their lord had been defeated. Any of the death eaters who were still alive had not committed severe enough crimes to warrant an execution. Of course, because of his infamy, Snape was the only prisoner still being guarded by Dementors. After the war with Voldemort, most of them had been destroyed during the battles, but the few remaining ones had pledged themselves to Harry Potter. (Tonks understood that there was some experimental spell placed on them, but other than that she only understood that their lives were tied to Harry's life. She supposed it was a fancy way of say that when Harry died, so did they.)

Tonks visited Snape every Thursday at noon. It was good for Snape to have consistency. Without it, she imagined, he would lose track of the days and hours and eventually go crazy, which would cause all sorts of trouble. She took the boat over to the small island, disembarked, and entered the prison, feeling the slight chills that being anywhere near Dementors always gave her. Hurrying along the small tunnels and corridors, up flights of stairs and past prison cells, she soon reached the isolated cell of Severus Snape.

He was already sitting by the bars of his cell, talking with a young man. She took a step backwards, not wanting to interrupt, since she had never seen Snape receive any visitors, except for her, but she had already been spotted. Snape's visitor turned to look at her, his gray eyes instantly fixing on her intensely. It was Draco Malfoy, or at least she thought it was Draco. He was still as pale as she remembered him, but his almost-white hair hung freely around his shoulders instead of being slicked back. The biggest change was he eyes. They were warmer than she remembered, but they were also far more cautious and calculating. It was as if he was ready to extend the hand of friendship but just as ready to lash out and hurt if he determined her to be any threat. They didn't speak for a moment, but then Draco stood and nodded goodbye to Snape before pulling up the hood of his cloak. Turning, he went to leave, meeting Tonk's eye for a moment.

"Hello, Cousin," he said, his accent a mix of British and American. But he was gone, already turning the corner, by they time she opened her mouth to reply. Closing it with a snap, Tonks frowned slightly and took Draco's vacated chair.

"Does he come around often?" She asked and Snape turned his face to look at her. He was paler and more drawn than she remembered him being, but she supposed it was only a matter of time before Azkaban began to take a noticeable toll on Snape.

"Draco? Oh, now and again, he comes to see me. Maybe twice a month or so. England doesn't really suit him anymore. And, of course, Azkaban leaves an especially sour taste in his mouth. Reminds him of his father, and the war. No doubt some of his friends as well.

"So why does he come?"

"I've never actually asked. He probably thinks he 'owes' me for helping him out near the end of the war. He was so spoiled; he never would have managed to stay alive and in hiding as long as we did. And his mother was a friend of mine. He always adored his mother. He's a quite a bit like her, too. Did you know he got married?"

"Really?" Tonks asked, slightly surprised. "To who?"

Snape shook his head a little, before replying, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Sure I would," Tonks protested, but Snape just smirked and turned his head back to look at the tiny ray of sunlight that filtered through the tiny window of his cell.

"What's it like out there?" he asked after a moment.

"George Weasley is doing better. Mungo's is trying some new experimental charm to see if it will combat the depression. There's been talk about giving him some muggle drugs, but Molly doesn't think he'll take them. He's so lonely without Fred. Luna Lovegood seems to be doing better, even though it's probably a bit too early to tell. Someone also saw her with a visitor last week and there's talk that it might have been Neville Longbottom, which of course means his grandmother has started looking for him again. It's kinda sad, I think. She was always harassing that boy and degrading him, but once he left she's such the loving grandmother, distraught by the loss of her grandson. If I were him, I'd never go back to that woman. Ever. But anyway, Hagrid wrote to Lupin last week, so we know he's still alive out there. He's really giving Lupin a lot of support, even though he's no genius. If nothing else, his letters seem to cheer Lupin up. He, Lupin that is, is having a lot of trouble with the Ministry again. It's difficult to make any headway with werewolf rights and, every time he tries, a new set of roadblocks just show up. A lot of people are still very prejudiced against werewolves and other dark creatures, especially since the war."

"That's the trouble, isn't it? We treat them with disgust, so they looked to Voldemort for help, for revenge. But no one sees that. They just see dark creatures."

"I never thought you were one for werewolf rights."

"I don't really care because it doesn't effect me, but it's probably inevitable that they will get the rights. Werewolves in America and France have been very successful in the regard."

"You're very apathetic today," Tonks noted. Frowning, she wrinkled her nose and began to morph. "Look at me."

Turning his head, Snape looked over at her in time to see her hair change into long dark locks, completing the transformation. He smiled at her. It was weak, and it didn't quite reach his eyes, but she knew he meant it. He reached his hand through the bars and squeezed her hand gently.

"I miss him," Snape confessed and Tonks smiled. He told her that every week.

"I know."

"You believe in the afterlife?"

"Like Heaven?" Tonks asked in surprise. Normally he just sat in silence for the rest of her visit. "I guess so. My dad's actually Catholic, so he believes in that."

"You think I'll end up there? With Regulus?"

"Maybe. I'm not to clear on how you get in, but it might happen."

"Maybe. It would be nice, you know. Not having to worry about losing him anymore."

"Are you feeling ok?" Tonks asked, suddenly worried. Snape was always a little sullen, angry and defensive, but he was never apathetic. Not like this.

"I don't want you know come anymore."

"Why?"

"I can't take it. I can't look at you anymore. Every time you come here, every single fucking time! You give Regulus to me. You give me hope, maybe even happiness. You give me this brief glimpse! And then you leave, and _they_ come back, and I lose him again. Then next week you come, and for a moment I think I have him, but as soon as you leave, so does he. I can't take it. I can't take this moment of false happiness when I think he's with me."

"Snape-"

"I've lost him thirty-three times now. It was horrible the first time, when he died, but this? This is worse. It's torture! Stop giving me memories that they can twist. Please!" Snape begged, looking at the ground to hide the tears welling up in his eyes. "I'm going to _die_! Can't you just let me do it in peace?"

"I'm sorry," Tonks whispered, before changing back into herself and leaving. She never returned to Azkaban.

* * *

It had been a year since the death of Dumbledore. Tonks was having a drink with Lupin at 12 Grimmauld Place, which Harry had left to the man. They were sitting in the kitchen, Lupin sipping his water and Tonks finishing her vodka. She had come over to help Lupin with some legal work, but after three hours of working hard and getting nowhere, they had stopped for a drink and begun talking about the latest gossip. The war had shaken the entire wizarding community, and many people were still feeling its effects.

They discussed George Weasley's recent suicide and his funeral when he was buried beside his sister, two brothers and two uncles, all killed by war. Bill, his wife Fleur, and Charlie had come to be with their parents, and Ron had also made an appearance, even though he left with Hermione after spending only a few moments with his parents. Hagrid had written Lupin again and had promised to return for a short visit in a month. Lupin had asked Tonks to help him set up a guestroom before she left.

Luna Lovegood had begun to respond to therapy, and she actually seemed more lucid than before her insanity. However, she did seem to be experiencing some amnesia. Neville Longbottom had returned, much to his grandmother's relief, and was helping her through her memory loss. The bodies of Anthony Goldstein and Dean Thomas had been discovered, adding their names to the long list of casualties. Parvati Patil had also been found hiding at a friend's summer home in France. She had been taken to a wizarding hospital, but the doctors did not think she would ever been mentally ready to live on her own again, so her sister Padma had gone to France to help her twin. Pansy Parkinson had also been found. She had gone to Canada and was already living off a considerable amount of money she had earned, tricked and seduced out of different people. Tonks supposed that Snape would be proud, but she didn't tell Lupin this.

Tonks was just refilling her glass when someone knocked at Lupin's door and he rose to answer it. It was Mad-eye Moody, to the surprise of Lupin and the amusement of Tonks.

"I knew you couldn't stay away," Tonks laughed, offering Moody some vodka, knowing he would refuse.

"I just came to tell you. Snape's dead."

"Dead? Of course he's dead," Tonks replied, rolling her eyes. "He was slotted to be executed today."

"No. He died less than half an hour ago. He wasn't supposed to be executed until now." Moody explained, as the clock in the other room chimed six o'clock.

"If he wasn't executed, then what killed him?" Lupin asked, confused.

"He killed himself," Moody muttered, clearly unhappy with the situation. Lupin frowned as well, but Tonks threw her head back and laughed loudly, even though she could feel tears of grief beginning to well up in her eyes.

"What's so funny!" Moody demanded. "A man died on our watch."

"Oh calm down," Tonks retorted, still laughing. "He would have died today, if he hadn't…"

"I still fail to see the humor," Lupin interrupted.

"Don't you get it? That's so like Snape. He wouldn't even give you the pleasure of killing him. Oh, even in the end he 'stuck it to the man'," Tonks explained before breaking down into a fit of giggles again. Choosing to ignore her antics, Moody said goodbye to Lupin and left. Lupin returned to the kitchen a few minutes later, after seeing Moody to the door, and found Tonks staring at her empty glass. She was far more subdued, almost melancholy, and Lupin wondered if the moisture at the edges of her eyes was from tears of sadness or laughter.

"Why didn't he do it earlier?" Lupin asked, as he took a seat next to her and poured himself a small shot of Vodka, before refilling Tonks glass with water from the tap.

"Oh, you know that guy," Tonks replied, before taking a sip of her water. "Never happy unless he was miserable."

And, without warning, she lay her head on Lupin's shoulder and began to cry.


	5. The Man Who Knew Evil

Title: The Man who Knew Evil in All its Forms

Author: Dancho

Fandom: Harry Potter

Disclaimer: Own nothing… I live in a box and wear a barrel.

Type: One Shot

Rating: M (R)

SHIPs: Landlocked, though you might see RL/BL if you pull out the binoculars

Summery: When Snape struggles against his future, he's exactly like a rabbit in a bear trap. Except the rabbit doesn't know its effort is in vain.

Time: Post-HBP, occurs during Ch. 4: A.D.

Warning: SERIOUS violence/torture, character death, and some language

* * *

Truly, if there is evil in this world, it lies within the heart of mankind. - Edward D. Morrison

* * *

He was sitting in the mud. After he had killed Dumbledore, he and Draco had begun to slowly walk south. Snape wasn't exactly sure where they were heading, but he was working on a vague plan to get them to the continent. They would have a much larger choice of hiding places once they got there. He just hoped he could figure out the muggle money system and other things.

"I'm cold," Draco whispered, tightening his robes around himself. He hadn't said much since they had begun their journey, so the sound of his voice surprised Snape.

"Nothing I can do," Snape whispered back. "We need to keep a low profile."

"And hiding under a muggle home is the way to do that?" Draco asked, his words hinting at sarcasm, but his voice was flat.

"Yes. Muggles are really the only people we can trust. Both sides are after us now. The wizarding world of England is lost to us."

"But my father…"

"Is useless! He can't help us, and he won't even if he could. You have failed, Draco. And Voldemort will not be pleased with either of us; you for your failure and me for my impertinence. I am your only hope at this point. Understand?"

"Yes," Draco replied sullenly. "But we can't hide like this for the rest of our lives."

"No," Snape agreed. "But if we make it to the continent we can…. Wait. Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Draco asked, looking around nervously. Snape peered through the mesh that protected the empty space under the muggle porch and frowned.

"Sounds like fighting," Snape whispered.

"Death eaters?" Draco asked, as he crawled over to kneel next to Snape. Snape shot him a glance and noticed that the boy was even paler than usual and his hands were shaking a little.

"Maybe. Wait here," Snape ordered as he quickly pulled back a section of the mesh and left his hiding spot. "Don't come out until I call for you."

"But… What if you…" Draco began, clutching the wooden barrier. "What if…"

"Don't come out. I'll be back," Snape hissed, his eyes narrowing angrily. Draco looked like he was going to protest, but after a moment nodded and slipped back into the shadows, disappearing entirely. Snape slunk through the small streets of the town, avoiding all attention with ease born of multiple years of practice. He soon found a small battle between seven aurors and eight death eaters. The death eaters were clearly losing and a few of them were seriously injured. However, Snape decided that the two groups were distracting each other enough to allow him to make his escape with Draco. He took a few steps back into the shadows and quickly made his way back to where he had been hiding with Draco. He was almost to the muggle house when he heard footsteps behind him.

"Stop!" a voice shouted and then Snape heard a muttered spell. He found himself thrown off his feet and he flew down the street before he fell on his face and slammed into a wall. He tried to get to his feet but a foot lashed out and kicked him in his stomach before stepping on his wand hand. Snape looked up to see an auror grab his wand and snap it in one motion.

"Well, well," the auror with Snape's wand said, his voice mocking. "Look who we found."

"Jackpot," another auror agreed and a foot smashed Snapes face into the ground. "Guess what…. Severus. We just saved your ass, didn't we boys?"

"Hn. If I'd known, I wouldn't have bothered," the auror who had first shouted at Snape added.

"Me too," one of the men agreed. "Let's get this over with. Where's Malfoy?"

"I don't know."

"The boy," The fourth, and final, auror interrupted, speaking for the first time. "We know he's with you."

"I don't know," Snape gritted out, and the foot on his head pushed down harder.

"Well, I guess you're really not worth anything," the auror with Snape's wand said, before sighing deeply. "What a waste."

"Yeah. And we totally saved his life too," the fourth auror, the one standing on Snape, added. "Hey, the bastard never said thanks."

"Too right. So?" The first auror asked, crouching down next to Snapes prone form. "What do you say?"

Averting his eyes, Snape bit his lip so he wouldn't cry out when a hand reached out and scraped his face against the ground. He was hauled into a kneeling position and someone grabbed a fistful of hair so he couldn't look away.

"Say 'Thank you'!"

"I'd rather lick Malfoy's boots," Snape spat back, before actually spitting in one of the aurors faces. Without warning, one of the other aurors reached out and smacked him across the face as if he was a child.

"Look at you. You think you're so great and noble, but you're just filth. A dirty, filthy murderer." Snape didn't say anything in response, instead he simply looked at the four men, which seemed to make them even more angry. "And I'm going to make sure you remember that for the rest of your short life."

Snape wasn't sure what they were going to do, but he wasn't expecting to be thrown to the ground. He tried to roll over, but two sets of hands grabbed him and pinned him to the dirt. He felt his robes being torn so that his back was exposed and he began to panic. One of the aurors muttered something and suddenly the hands were replaced with the two men kneeling on his arms, and Snape almost dislocated his shoulders as he continued to struggle against the weight. His eyes were wide with panic, fearful at being so exposed and vulnerable. Even torture by Voldemort was preferable. Snape knew that, could handle it. This was new, unexpected and humiliating. Someone stepped on the back of his head, pressing his face in the dirt, and Snape stopped struggling, tears of humiliation and fear welling up behind his eyelids.

He felt a slight tingling sensation against the skin of his back and then there was a sharp searing pain that seemed to eat into his bones. He threw his head back, knocking lose the foot that had been pinning him, and opened his mouth to scream but he didn't hear anything. He wasn't sure if he was screaming and simply couldn't hear it over the pain, or if the pain was so much that no scream on earth could express it.

* * *

He was sitting on the cold stones. Even the thin bits of cotton that sometimes passed as blankets didn't help. The entire prison radiated coldness. It was as if the stones stored up cold and released it when it grew warmer so no matter what the building was caught in an eternal winter. Shaking his head, Snape knew that was a silly notion, like something out of a muggle storybook.

He tried to ignore the pain in his back. His wounds were healing, but they were deep and it was a slow process. The healers hadn't been able to do anything for him, except apply a few muggle remedies. Of course, Snape had thought they wouldn't even look at him. It just went to show, he mused, that healers would help anyone. But still, the healers had not given him anything for the pain so his back hurt every time he moved or even breathed. A few times, in hospital, he had been in so much pain he had held his breath until he had passed out. The only good part about his wounds, even though sometimes he wondered, was that he couldn't be executed until he was fully healed.

Shaking in head, Snape slowly clambered to his feet and stood on his bed to see out his small window. It wasn't much of a view, and Snape supposed he would quickly grow bored with it, but he liked to look at something other than the same stonewall when he was thinking.

Draco had come to visit him that afternoon. He had said he was going to visit his mother as well, but Snape doubted it. The boy probably hadn't seen his parents in months. At least, Snape decided, Draco had managed get a pardon. The court had been more lenient that Snape had supposed. It was good. The boy had really done nothing wrong. It was simply a wrong place, wrong time, wrong family, wrong everything.

Snape let out a sigh and lay down on his bed. He was tired again. It was exhausting to be this bored.

* * *

He was sitting on his bed, watching the rain fall outside when Bellatrix Lestrange was lead by his cell. He looked up with interest, having not seen the woman in months. Three hit wizards were escorting her and magical chains bound her. Still, she didn't look especially dangerous. Her long black hair hung around her face and he let it fall like a curtain in front of her face. She walked slowly taking small steps and she hung her head, watching her feet as she walked.

She was standing parallel with him when she seemed to snap out of her dull stupor. She stopped walking and looked up at Snape. Her eyes were lifeless, but they were bloodshot as if she had been crying recently. The hit wizards jumped back as if they expected her to attack them, but she just walked up to the bars of Snape's cell.

"Hello," she whispered, her voice dead and broken.

"Hello, Bellatrix."

"I'm going to be executed."

"Oh. I see," Snape replied as if unsure what to say. Bellatrix nodded absently, her eyes shifting to look at the rain.

"I do miss Rodolphus," she said and opened her mouth as if to continue, but one o the hit wizards stepped forward and grabbed her by the arm, jerking her away.

"Come on," he growled, and Bellatrix was taken from the room. A few minutes later, Snape heard a loud, high-pitched scream. It did not last very long but in the silence of Azkaban it seemed to echo for days.

Snape chose to ignore most of the other prisoners who were taken past his cell to be executed. Even if he recognized them, he simply ignored them, not caring about their fate. Even their screams as they died became so common place that after a while they barely fazed him.

That is until Narcissa Malfoy was taken past his cell. He had been lying on his bed preparing to take a nap, when he saw her come down the corridor. Her wrists and ankles were bound by magical chains, like Bellatrix had been, and she was being led by three hit wizards. However, unlike her sister, she walked down the hall as if she was a queen, her back straight and her head held high. Even her face had not lost the disgusted look it always took on when she was with those she deemed unfit to be in her presence. Sitting up in his bed, he walked over to his cell door and pressed his face against the bars.

"Narcissa?" he called and she looked over at him.

"Snape," she whispered, breaking away from the three wizards. "Have you heard from Draco? Is he all right?"

"He's fine," Snape assured her before continuing. "He's moved to America."

She looked at him closely, even as the three wizards descended on her and pulled her away. She was almost out the door when she seemed to decide that he was not lying to her. She smiled gratefully at him.

"Thank you. Tell my son I love him!"

"He loves you too," Snape told her, but she was already gone, and Snape wasn't sure if she had heard him. Returning to his bed, Snape wrapped his head in his thin blankets but he could still hear her screaming as she died.

* * *

It was sunny when Lucius was lead past Snape's cell. Snape was pacing back and forth to exercise his legs, but he stopped when he saw the other man. The two of the three hit wizards with him grabbed Lucius's arms and pulled him along to keep him from stopping at Snape's cell.

"Your son is all right," Snape told the other man, not sure if he would care.

"I have no son," Lucius replied, his voice laced with bitterness. He turned to look at Snape and his lips turned into a sneer. "We are the last of our kind. The last great death eaters. The loyal ones. Soon, this will be you. It will be your screams echoing down these halls. I hope to hear them from hell!"

And Lucius was gone. Snape cringed, sinking to the floor and curling in on himself, when he heard the other man's screams. He was alone, the last to die. Pressing his forehead to the cold stone floor he realized that it was, in fact, rather lonely.


	6. The Woman who Feared Life and Death

Title: The Woman who Feared Life and Death

Author: Dancho

Fandom: Harry Potter

Disclaimer: Own nothing… I live in a box and wear a barrel.

Type: One Shot

Rating: M (R)

SHIPs: Landlocked… anything you find is a boat of your own design

Summery: Lavender Brown was in Gryffindor for a reason. If only she could remember it.

Time: Final Battle, timeline overlap with Chapters 4 & 5.

Warning: Character death (off screen), cursing, violence. Un-BETA-d. If you're interested in helping out, send me a line.

* * *

I don't know about angels, but it's fear that gives men wings. - Max Payne

* * *

Lavender wasn't sure how it happened. One minute she was defending the school with Parvati and some of the older students, under the leadership of a female auror, and the next she was alone in the middle of the battlefield, fighting death eater after death eater. She managed to avoid any serious injuries, but several cutting charms did leave her with several large bleeding gashes on her arms and legs, which made it difficult to focus.

To say she was frightened was an understatement, especially as she watched her own blood dripping from under her clothes and onto the grassy field of the former Quidditch pitch. However, her fear was nowhere near the blind panic that set in as soon as she realized she was alone in a sea of enemies. Frantically, she began to fight her way through the crowd in search of Pavati or, failing that, someone who was not trying to kill her.

Her flight from the battleground attracted some attention and, before she could really process what was happening, three enormous death eaters were chasing her. Turning in fear, Lavender darted as quickly as possible into the forbidden forest, more interested in escaping her pursuers than staying away from the dangers within the forest. Still, the three men followed her and she was forced deeper into the forest before she found a small, but deep, cave and she managed to slip inside. Once she was sure the three men had passed the cave, she cast a weak lighting charm and continued farther into the cave, hoping that she was the only inhabitant.

She kept walking for a while, continuing deeper and deeper into the winding tunnels of the cave, making marks on the cave walls every now and then. The cave was apparently linked to several others in the area and together they made a large tunnel system. Frightened that she was close to getting lost, Lavender turned around, and was about to leave the way she came, when she noticed another mark on the cave wall. It was obviously very new and man-made, but she had now left the mark.

She looked down the tunnel and saw a faint glimmer of light. Unsure whether or not she had put herself in a dangerous cave with a death eater, Lavender edged closer to the light, ready to run if the other occupant did not seem friendly. She edged around a corner and saw two forms illuminated by a wand that was casting a faint lighting spell. One of the figures was lying on the floor, as if they were asleep, while the other was sitting against the wall. The later figure's head rolled up slightly and their eyes meet for a second. Terror gripped Lavender and she froze, her breath stuck in her throat.

"Lavender?" the figure asked and Lavender instantly relaxed.

"Shit, Dean," she replied, gasping for air. "You frightened me!"

Dean Thomas smiled faintly and Lavender came around the corner to sit with him. She looked at him closely and frowned.

"You don't look so good," Dean remarked, motioning lazily to her cut up arms and legs, which were even worse for Lavender's venturing into the forest.

"You look worse," Lavender replied, beginning to feel concerned about Dean's condition.

"Don't worry about me," Dean commanded sharply, before waving her away. "Look at him."

Lavender looked over at the figure Dean had motioned to and nodded. She moved over to the figure that was lying on the floor. The boy was lying on the cold ground with his hands folded across his stomach and his eyes closed in sleep, but when Lavender felt for a pulse, she couldn't find anything. She looked over at Dean and shook her head, but Dean was not even looking at her. He was watching his wand, which was gradually producing less and less light.

"I didn't want this," Dean began to say, his voice barely above a whisper. "I never thought I'd end up in a war. Even when Harry and Ron and Hermione were training us for battle, I never though it would be like this."

"I know. It wasn't real to me," Lavender agreed, but Dean didn't seem to hear her.

"I didn't sign up to die," Dean finally concluded, looking up at her. His eyes drifted over to the dead boy next to Lavender. "Not my words. He said that."

"Is he… Was he a Gryffindor?" Lavender asked.

"Ravenclaw. Anthony Goldstein. Shit. He kept asking to see his mum. He just wanted to go home," Dean whispered, his voice breaking. "Lavender?"

"Yes?"

"You should go. At least… get some help or help out at the castle."

"You should come with me."

"No. I… I said I'd stay with Anthony," Dean replied, looking over at the other boy. Lavender almost opened her mouth to tell Dean that the other boy was dead, before she realized that Dean knew perfectly well. He probably also knew, she realized, that he was dying. She tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry, so she just nodded. Leaning forward, she smoothed Dean's hair and kissed his forehead.

"I… I'll be back," she croaked out.

"I'll wait," Dean replied, closing his eyes. Lavender stood and started towards the cave's exit, Dean's muffled sobs echoing after her, even though she pretended to ignore them. She got lost a few times, but she eventually found an exit, which was not the same as the way she had come in. Searching her surroundings, she found herself in a large open area at the base of a hill. She looked for a while, but she couldn't see anyone. Giving up, she turned to got back inside, when she heard a muffle curse and a strong force slammed into her, slamming her into the ground.

'_A stunning spell_,' she identified, as her eyes closed. She fought the curse for a moment, just long enough to see a death eater enter the cave. And she knew she would never see Dean ever again. '_Shit. Dean… I'm sorry. Please… Please…_'

_

* * *

She was walking down a long corridor, which kept changing and shifting. Rooms appeared and disappeared and the people in the paintings on the walls moved. She wasn't quite sure what was going on, but in a way she knew that everything was all right and normal. Even if she was talking with a ghost._

_She heard someone shout out to her and looked up to see a girl and a boy her age approach her. The boy was very tall and black and the girl, who was much shorter than the boy, had long black hair and tanned skin._

_"Hello, Mr. Thomas, Miss Patil."_

_"Hello, Nick," the boy, Mr. Thomas, replied and Miss Patil waved._

_"Well, I'll just leave you three. Goodbye," the ghost excused himself and he drifted through a wall._

_"Where've you been, Lav?" The girl asked._

_"Sorry. I forgot about the time. Nick was helping me with a project."_

_"Well, never mind that. Snape's on the warpath. If he finds any…"_

_"Any what, Mr. Thomas?" A voice asked and she spun around to see a man with long greasy hair that hung around his face. He also wore a long robe that covered most of his extremely pale skin._

_"Nothing, sir," The boy replied, looking at the floor._

_"I sincerely hope that none of you three have been involved in anything… prohibited."_

_"No, sir," The girl replied, looking at her for assistance._

_"What Dean meant, sir," She began, the boy's first name simply appearing on her tongue, "was that you would be upset if you found any students not studying or working hard. Which is why we were just about to head up to the library."_

_"I see," the man replied, obviously not believing anything the three children had said. However, he seemed to lose interest in their nervousness. "Well? Go on then."_

_"Excuse us, sir," Dean Thomas replied and the three children quickly hurried down the hall, smiling at each other in relief._

She opened her eyes as light began to filter in through her small window. She sat up and looked around her small hospital room. She was only wearing a paper gown and her limbs were still sore from the numerous stitches she had received upon her arrival. She climbed out of bed and, taking her IV drip with her, wandered down the hall before finding a chair in the patient lounge where she could sit and watch the sunrise and read old magazines about events she did not remember. She was still there when a doctor approached her just before lunch.

"Hello, Ms. Doe," the woman said, sitting next to her.

"Hello, Doctor Jones."

"How are you?"

"I had a dream last night."

"I see. Do you remember anything?"

"It was very strange. I was in that old building again. The one where the halls change and the paintings move."

"Yes, I remember. You dream about that place a lot."

"Yes. There was a boy. Thomas? Was that his name? I don't remember. He was there, and so was this other girl. Patil? I can't remember. I can't… I can't… It doesn't fit!" She groaned, clutching her hair in frustration. "Why can't I make it fit? It doesn't make sense!"

"Jane! Relax! Relax!"

"My name is NOT JANE DOE!" She screamed at the doctor, before covering her face and letting out a strangled sob. "I want my name back. I want to remember again. These half dreams, I can't stand them."

"I know," the doctor replied, pulling her close and soothingly stroking her hair. "It'll come back. Just give it time."

"How much time?" she wondered, but there was no answer.


	7. The Man Who Forgot the Answers

Title: The Man who Forgot the Answer

Author: Dancho

Fandom: Harry Potter

Disclaimer: Own nothing… I live in a box and wear a barrel.

Type: One Shot

Rating: T (Pg-13)

SHIPs: NL/LL

Summery: Neville Longbottom witness something that reminds him of his past and in the process forgot what he was struggling for. A story about the search for the meaning of life, without a mountain or a wise man.

Time: Post-Final Battle, timeline overlap with Chapters 4 & 5.

Warning: Some angst, some language, gratuitous referencing of plants, moderately pointless

* * *

History may not repeat itself, but it does rhyme a lot. - Mark Twain

* * *

Neville Longbottom wasn't a especially brave person, but he wasn't a coward either. He simply liked to avoid conflicts, especially since he always seemed to come out the worse for wear each and every time. He knew he wasn't stupid, maybe a little clumsy and slow to grasp concepts. But he knew what he knew. Even if he wasn't a very strong wizard and he didn't have much of a backbone and he wasn't anything compared to his parents, he knew he wasn't stupid by a long shot.

Which often lead him to wonder how he ended up in the situations he did. If he wasn't stupid, and he liked to avoid conflicts, why did he always end up in some situation that just might end with him dead?

Muttering under his breath, Neville crept further through the Forbidden Forest, avoiding a few dangerous plants which he mentally cataloged and noted their location in case he needed them later. He wished he could spend longer examining them, but he knew there wasn't time. He was on a mission.

During the battle, Luna Lovegood had gone missing and since he wasn't very good at healing spells, Neville had been sent out to find her. Well, he had volunteered, really. If that's what you would call running towards her last known location upon hearing that she was missing. He hoped he could find her. He hoped she was alive. He hoped she was simply sitting watching the scenery. He hoped he was worried almost to the point of nausea over absolutely nothing.

It was supposed to be a secret, mostly from his grandmother, since no one else was likely to notice either of them much, but he had been spending a lot of time with Luna. As in, a lot of private, hidden-in-a-closet-on-the-fourth-floor, time. That wasn't to say all they did was "suck face", as some of the other boys liked to put it. They went to Hogsmead together and spent time in the library together. Neville even took her plant hunting sometimes, which he liked to do alone since it gave him time to think in quiet. They'd been together since the Department of Mysteries; not that anyone seemed to have noticed.

Stepping past a large tree, Neville froze. A death eater was standing over the body of Luna, who was desperately trying to push herself off the ground, while she vomited blood. The man laughed cruelly and pointed his wand down at her, about to call out another curse.

"NO!" Neville screamed, stretching out his hand, forgetting all about his wand. There was a sudden burst of power from stomach area, a burst of magic far stronger than he had ever felt before, and the death eater suddenly flew back until a large plant caught the man's body. The man managed to utter a short scream before Vines wrapped around him and he was dragged into a hole in the ground. The plant quickly covered him and the forest became still again.

"Giant blood-sucking man-trap. Feeds on the blood of animals and humans, draining them dry before disposing of the depleted husk. Very dangerous," Neville identified, as he tried to stop his knees from shaking. Stumbling over to Luna's body, he helped her into a kneeling position and held her hair until she had finished vomiting. "Luna? How are you feeling? Can you walk? We need to get you some help."

She turned her face to look at him and he swallowed. He knew the look on her face.

"Who… who are you?" She whispered.

"I'm Neville Longbottom," Neville whispered, but Luna continued to look at him blankly. She had no idea who he was.

"I'm sorry. I don't know you," Luna replied. She climbed to her feet with Neville's help and he slowly began to lead her to Hogwarts. "Where are you taking me?"

"Hogwarts. You need medical attention."

"Why do I need that?"

"You're hurt."

"Oh. Can I see my mother? She's really good at making me feel better. But I don't like bugs."

"I know, Luna. I know," Neville whispered, fighting tears.

"Is that my name? Luna? I like Stacy better," Luna declared, but Neville only nodded in response, not saying another word. He led her to Hogwarts, where he left her in the care of a young woman Auror. When he was sure Luna was safe and being treated, he blew her a kiss and left without looking back.

Four months later, Neville found himself in a restaurant in Australia. 

He had never been so grateful for taking Muggle Studies before. He had thought it would be an easy class to fill his schedule, but now he was actually using what he had learned. He had remembered less than he had imagined, so there had been almost a week of awkwardness where he learned the money system and reacquainted himself with muggle appliances, but after months of living in a small apartment a little ways out of Sydney, Australia, he had adjusted nicely. He was even beginning to pick up a little bit of an accent and his normally pale skin was showing a bit of tan.

He had exchanged a large amount of his own personal money for muggle bills and, by his reckoning, he could live as he was, very comfortably, for another six months or so before he would have to withdrawal more money from Gringrotts or get a job. At the moment though, he was more inclined to get a job than return to England. Australia suited him. The warmth and sun suited him. The relative peace, the lack of fear, suited him. And, even though he sometimes did get a little homesick, the solitude seemed to suit him too.

Since he didn't work and he had plenty of money, Neville was always searching for new and different ways to spend his time. He spent some time at the beach, and some time shopping for books to read. He had discovered that muggle fiction novels could actually be quite entertaining. He had even developed an appreciation for muggle art and other forms of muggle entertainment. He had even begun to watch a muggle television program, LOST, with regularity. Much to his surprise, Neville found that had also made some friends. They were muggles, of course, but it was nice to be with people who enjoyed his company, even sought it out.

But Neville's favorite activity, and the real reason he had left England, was people watching. He could spend hours watching people, muggles, go to work, spend time with friends, play games, appreciate art, argue over how much tip to leave the waitress. He could watch them do just about anything. It made him feel at peace.

They didn't worry about mad wizards coming to kill them. They didn't even known how close they had come to being exterminated. But they also didn't know how much people had sacrificed and lost for them. For their happiness.

He wasn't ashamed to admit that sometimes he had considered going to you-know-who and joining him. The fight seemed impossible. People, trained fighters, had died fighting you-know-who. Neville wasn't foolish; he knew he was weak. He knew he was pathetic. All he could handle were plants. Even now when he thought about the battles he had fought in, Neville still shook a little. But, against all odds, he had made it. Even though he still wondered if his sacrifice had been worth it.

He knew he wasn't the only one to suffer losses, but he wasn't selfless. He had lost his parents to you-know-who. He had lost a normal childhood to the bastard! And that hadn't been enough, apparently. He had lost friends and, even though Luna wasn't dead, he had lost her too. He still had nightmares about that. About her blank eyes staring up at him, recognizing nothing.

Shaking his head, Neville took another sip of his drink and waved to his friend, Sal, who had just started work. Finishing his drink, Neville decided that he had done enough people watching and reminiscing for the day. He motioned for his waiter to give him the bill and was pulling on his jacket when he heard a voice with a British accent call to him.

"Neville Longbottom?" The woman asked, and Neville turned to look at her. She was a little taller than he was and she was wearing a muggle t-shirt and jeans. Her arms were decorated with various tattoos and marking and her hair was a bright green color but Neville's eyes were automatically attracted to the wooden stick she was using to keep her hair in a bun on top of her head.

"Yes. Can I help you?" Neville asked cautiously. He hadn't made contact with anyone in the wizarding community since his arrival, and no one had attempted to contact him. Or, if they had, they had not been successful.

"Name's Tonks. I think we might have meet once, back home."

"I think I remember. You didn't have to tattoos… or the long hair then."

"Oh, well, I'm trying to fit in. Mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead," Neville replied, before sitting on the other side of the table. The waiter came by with the bill, but Tonks sent him away, ordering a soda to be put on Neville's tab.

"Sorry. I'll pay you my part, if you're hard up," Tonks apologized.

"No, don't worry about it," Neville replied, waving his had dismissively. Tonks smiled at him, but didn't say anything until her drink arrived.

"Are you here for a reason, Ms. Tonks?" Neville finally asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

"Oh, yes. Mission, tracking a few questionable persons. But that's not nearly as interesting as why you are here. Did you know you've got quite a lot of people out looking for you? Your grandma certainly knows a few people. She seems almost worried about you."

"She's looking for me? What an interesting reaction. I certainly didn't think she'd worry," Neville commented, frowning slightly. "I expect she's getting lonely with only the house elves to order around."

"Hm, but that doesn't tell me why you're here. You disappeared without a word to anyone. It does seem a bit out of character."

"And what is my character, Ms. Tonks? You don't even know me! But, of course, no on ever talks to me. They just order me around! I don't care if I am a little dense; it's nice to be asked for your opinion every now and then."

"So you're angry. Stand up for yourself."

"I am not angry. It's just… Luna used to talk to me. I really liked her. I couldn't watch her end up like my parents. It's fucking ridiculous. I mean, what are the odds?"

"I know it's hard…." Tonks began, but Neville just glared at her.

"I know. It was hard on everyone. All I have to do is look at Ron's family. But you know what? I can't just pacify myself with that! It hurt, losing Luna. What's the point? What did we fight for? To live? If I knew living would hurt so much, I probably would have rolled over and let you-know-who trample me to death. I just… I just needed to figure out what I killed people for. What I lost my parents and… girlfriend for. What they lost their sanity for."

"And?"

"I can find that here. See that girl over there? People died for her. See that waitress? Her name's Sal. People lost family for her. And these muggles, they're happy. And for a second, I can believe that those shitty years were worth it. I can almost believe my parent's didn't lose their minds over nothing."

"You see that in these muggles?"

"I've had a lot of time to look for it."

"You going to be staying here much longer?"

"Maybe. I like it here. It's peaceful. I almost feel like I belong."

"Hm."

"You won't tell my gran, will you?"

"I have no reason to see her, why would I purposefully put myself in her path?"

"Valid point," Neville replied, once he had stopped laughing.

"Well, before I go," Tonks said, before finishing her drink. "Were you the kid who was supposed to be so amazing at herbology?

"Well, I guess. I mean, I wasn't near Hermione Granger's level, but I enjoyed it. Professor Sprout told me I had a knack for it."

"That's Hermione Weasley. Married Ron about a month after the defeat of… Voldemort. Anyway, would you mind looking at a few leaves I found on a suspect? I can't figure out what they are, and I can't find anyone on this side of the hemisphere who can give me a decent time frame on classification."

"I can look," Neville agreed and Tonks pulled out a bag with a few dried leaves. "Ah. Well, your problem is that these aren't from any magical plant. These are marijuana leaves."

"What?"

"It is commonly called cannabis by muggles back home. Street names range from dope to pot to weed. It's a drug smoked by muggle, sometimes for legitimate medical purposes, but also, for lack of a better term, to 'get high'. Be careful with this. It's illegal for you to have it."

"I see. So, nothing magical?"

"Sorry."

"No. It's ok. Thanks for you time," Tonks thanked him before putting the bag back in her pocket and standing. "Well, see you around. Or not."

"Of course."

"Oh, before I forget. Rumor has it that Luna Lovegood is actually responding to treatment. Who knows that a visit from a friend could do for her psyche."

"What?" Neville asked, jumping to his feet, but Tonks did not reply. He hurried to catch up with her, but his waiter stopped him, thinking he was trying to leave without paying. Grumbling, Neville pulled out a few bills for the man, knowing that Tonks was already beyond reach since his own wand was pack at the bottom of his sock drawer.

"Hey, Neville?" Sal asked, coming up behind him as he was leaving the restaurant. "Who was that?"

"Just someone from home."

"Was it about your family?" Sal asked, her expression clouded with worry.

"No. It was just an accidental meeting," Neville reassured her before leaving for his flat.

Neville didn't return to England for another week. A few times he came close, but it wasn't until the seventh day that he finally worked up the nerve. He arrived at the doors of St. Mungo's dressed in his usual muggle clothes and slipped down a hall, pulling on a healer's robes while he was climbing the stairs. He wasn't entirely sure why he was hiding, but he told himself it was to avoid any undo attention.

He entered the ward for the mentally unstable and quickly found Luna sitting on a couch in the patient's lounge. She was staring at the pages of a book, but she didn't appear to be reading it.

"Luna?" Neville called, but she didn't look up. Reaching out, Neville tapped her on the shoulder. "Luna?"

"Oh," she replied, turning to look up at him. "I'm sorry. I keep forgetting that that's my name. Wait… I know you."

"Neville Longbottom."

"The boy from the forest. I remember that."

"That's good," Neville replied, genuinely pleased. "What are you doing?"

"Looking at the pictures," Luna explained, but when Neville looked over at her book, he couldn't see any pictures.

"They're very nice."

"Aren't they? I like this one the best," Luna told him, pointing to one of the words on a page. "What do you think?"

"Lovely."

"I'm trying to committee them all to memory. There are a lot of bugs around. I'm worried about the cake, too."

"I see."

"Are you staying here?"

"Uh, no. I'm not."

"It's very nice. I get many visitors, every day. The food isn't so good, so sometimes I give it to someone else. Their food is always better than mine is. But I imagine your forest is much nicer. Do you have many friends there? I'm sort of lonely here. Alice and Frank won't talk to me."

"Uh…"

"Listen… It's a visitor," Luna told Neville and he could hear a nurse coming down the hall.

"I have to go," Neville told her, standing abruptly.

"Will you be back?"

"Of course. I've remembered why," Neville replied, bending to kiss her forehead. He ran down the hall, preparing to apparate from the hospital, but he heard Luna speaking with the nurse and paused for a moment to listen.

"Who was that?"

"The boy from the forest. He's my friend." There was a silence and then Luna continued. "I remember him. He's changed, you know. He was so sad in the forest, but I think he's happier now."

"Of course, Luna," the nurse replied, clearly not believing Luna. "Come, it is time for your lunch."

Luna allowed herself to be lead away but she turned to look at Neville who was hiding around the corner. She smiled and gave him a little wave before following the nurse to lunch. Neville waved back at her retreating figure and resolved to visit again, even if his gran did find out.


End file.
